outgoing
by WinterGlass
Summary: .well..this is my first official submission...so be nice... it takes place a few years after Grevolotion and follows the characters , as they meet up again for an eventual reunion..caution..entails such things as gothic Kai,Rei in makeup,and kennys fauxha
1. lands of the riseing sun

Outgoing

Author's note; I don't own Beyblade…although I wish I did….

Scene; takes place four years after end of G-revolution, in the industrialized sector of Osaka, Japan.

8:30 AM

…. From the edges of thick, cotton drapes, a thin ray of sunlight fell gracefully into the darkened bedroom. It's golden radiance illuminating a thin band of curiously hued comforter, stirred and irregular by a set of long, fanciful legs still sedentary in the post dawn glow. Slowly… but surely the sun increased its force, stirring the unfortunate occupant of the bed into wakefulness. With a slight groan, a futile kick through her covers at the light and a harsh yelp when said kick contacted a thigh directly behind the obviously annoyed kicker. Goaded by the sharp noise in the early, thick morning air, the pink-haired girl slipped out from the covers, kicked a pillow that had fallen off the mattress in the night, and stretched her lithe, toned, body .Twisting her arms to remove the cramps that had worked themselves into her musculature, all the while stretching the tight fitting fabric of her rather Spartan nightwear. Noticing this, she gazed down at her clothing, which consisted of the white tank and ultra baggy winter camo pants that she had worn the day before.

Sighing contently, she worked her way around the queen sized bed, heading for the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. Just as she had rounded the mattress, her taunt, pouty lips curled in a devious smirk, showcasing a single, protruding fang. Leaning over the figure still slumbering in the bed, she grabbed a pillow, raised it over her head and in her sweetest, most coaxing voice uttered, "Rei", twisting the notes to an almost song-like quality.

The raven haired presence uttered a few indecipherable syllables before rolling over to face the camo-clad girl at his left .Blinking sleep from his eyes, he groggily spat out "wha?."

"WAKE UP!" the girl shouted before bringing the pillow down over his head again and again. Springing his eyes open and practically flying out the opposite side of their bed. Frantically yelling "I'M UP, I'M UP, COME ON MARIAH!" as she continued to bash the living hell out of him. Giggling wildly in her downy rampage, she was eventually caught, having her arms pinned to the mattress by the strong, lean, hands of Rei. "hehe, truce?" he coyly asked his mate leaning close to her unwashed face.

"Oh, alright" she chuckled dropping the instrument of death in her palm to the comforter. "But on one condition." She smiled lightly and planted a chaste kiss upon Rei's cheek. "And what would that be?" he suavely replied smirking wildly, his long, lethal looking fangs showing themselves.

"Let me up and out of this mess." Mariah gleely replied, running her free hand across her smudged navy eyeliner. "kay?"

Easing his grip on her delicate flesh, the raven haired teen smirked once again "of course". Letting her free and following her to the attached bathroom, his own massive Tripp pants billowing around him, his naked torso anticipating being cleansed of the night's dried sweat.

9:00 AM

Emerging from the porcelain clad bathroom Mariah swung the door shut and stripped off the clinging fabric which she had apparently fallen asleep in, throwing it into the loose laundry bin by the door, then gliding over the closet and immersing herself in the notoriously difficult task of finding something to throw on herself for the day.

Hearing the door creak open she covered her exposed skin and called " I'm naked Rei!" which resulted in the emerging form of Rei throwing his dampened hair in front of his face and turning his still naked back to her . uttering a muffled "sorry" before sitting himself down on the disarrayed sheets of their bed and taking a brush to his long, ebony hair.

"Rei. .um what happened last night?" Mariah said as she pulled a top of violet mesh from the closet.

" hehe…it was sort of funny actually, I went out to buy some junk for the party tonight, and when I got home you were passed out on the couch mumbling something about…err.. what was it…umm.. oh yeah.. how good the vodka was" Rei recanted as he continued to brush his massive swath of raven velvet.

"bullcrap!" Mariah spat as she whirled around, forsaking her half naked condition "I would so not be knocked out by one bottle of Vodka!" she yelled at him, brandishing the empty coat hanger at him, it's charge now hugging her curvatious figure.

Rei laughed, she threw a pillow at him.

9:15 AM

Fifteen minutes later, the dysfunctional couple of Mariah and Rei sat on their fluffy couch, the bubblegum haired wonder painting her toes as her mate further attended to his deliciously long strands.

Taking a moment from applying the evil smelling aqua substance .She turned her attention to Rei's hands, slowly running a brush down his finery, combing through it until it shone like granite in moonlight .Each stroke streaming down his chest and over his knee, where he had draped his lengthy locks. With a forlonging look she cast a gaze to her own hair.

Since the events of the BEGA scandal, she and Rei had sort of… drifted away from their respective teams. Both mentally and physically .In the years that followed her white tiger x days she had followed in Rei's footsteps and moved to Japan, later hooking up with her childhood love and sharing an apartment… then a bed… The members of both G-revolution and the old blade breakers had stayed in touch for a while after that.

Seldom a day went by that either the obnoxious Takao , or still hyper Max, whom had finally confessed their attraction after years of making-out when they thought no one was watching, didn't phone them up for a night out or to inform them they would be dropping by (although they rarely had enough sence between them to do the latter). Kenny had often emailed them from his beloved Dizzi, meriting hour long chat sessions between the three. Daichi had apparently dropped off the face of the earth for a full year before showing up out of the blue at a BBA reunion, baring toxically potent drink, and his old attitude on steroids. After the party he disappeared again and as yet is still AWOl.

"Problem Mariah?" Rei's voice came as twisted his head over his shoulder and peered at her through his thick locks.

"Just thinking…. You know…a lots changed since we…you know… ran around more.."

Mariah smirked to herself. Then let the sentiment fade out. Rei dropped his cheery smile and turned to her.

"yeah…I know… it's been like two years since I've seen Takao and the guys.. I don't even remember Kai's face" Rei flipped his tended hair behind his back and bowed his knees, resting them against the puffy cushions of their ancient couch.

Mariah gazed deeply into his golden orbs, tinged with sadness at the loss of his previous crush.

"Yeah... it sucks, but then again, that's why we're having this party!" trying to stay chipper as she rested her free hand against Rei's shoulder. "Come on, it's going to be great!"

Rei smirked, "thanks Mariah… here let me!" lunging for her polish brush and snapping it away from her. "Hey!" she yelled at him as he began to swathe her nails in the vile liquid, tickling her at every turn. "REI!..." now fighting back a bout of the giggles.. "Stop it!..." trying wildly to free her foot, before finally submitting to him and relaxing. "I'm gonna get you mister golden eyes." she teasingly threatened as he finished placing the pigment upon her cuticles and shoving the brush back into the jar.

"Come and try it!" He challenged as he stood up from the couch, trying his best to look imposing. But was silenced when Mariah pulled out her secret weapon…

Reaching into one of the many pockets on her gigantic tripps, the pink haired nekojin produced the most heinous item know to Rei… hair elastics.

Recoiling desperately, the Raven haired teen was never the less caught by his mate in a massive half-glomp/ half-piggyback move that brought him down to the carpeting, his laser straight strands flying across the floor.

" hehe.. I'm gonna make you pretty kitty-cat!" she teased amidst a well placed chuckle.

"Have mercy!" he wailed as she pulled him by his locks to lean against the bottom of the couch, being pinned by Mariah's toned legs as she took up a post on their plushy furniture and began to play with Rei's illustrious strands. Weaving his elongated locks into a bending, creeping braid.

In the years since their tournament days, both Mariah and Rei had overhauled their appearance somewhat. Rei's already massive head of hair had grown even longer, and now hung beyond his waist and ended with the subtlest of flares against the back of his knees. Taking after her lover Mariah had also let hers grow out , and now reaped the benefits of having a waist length crop of nearly neon pink cascading from her scalp.

Speaking of neon, they both had partially abandoned their old Chinese traditional look and slowly adopted the massive pants, neon strips, and mesh of their new inner city home .Now donning LED laced chains and nearly pulsating shades of makeup as readily as Mariah had laced up her hair with her old pink kitty ears.

Daichi: somewhere in Sydney,AUS

7:30 AM

BBBBAAAA!

Letting the harsh, repetitive tone of his digital alarm clock scream at him to remove his miniscule arse from the relative comfort and warmth of some foreign, back ally hostel . The rough, thin cotton of his rented sheets reeking of cheap cigarette fumes and dry, gritty bodies. Which for one in his life, he could claim weren't ALL from his musty persona.

Practically throwing off the derelict covers that he had so insensibly clung to all night, the rust headed teen took stock of his surroundings. Not seeming to mind in the least that he was shirtless in a room with roughly five complete (and it must be said, rather destitute) strangers.

In the furthest corner of the twelve foot room, unfurnished except for drapes of varied thickness and several mattresses laid naked upon the floor, was the only other occupant awake at the relatively early hour.

Clad in a flowing pair of heavily patched, stitched and generally destitute black jeans, nondescript except for the various band logos and other cryptic ensignia scrawled in needlepoint onto his garment. As well as minutely checked boxers, judging from the hem line clinging to his gaunt physique, slightly above the many times belted edge of the custom creation strapped to his legs.

His upper body was still swathed in shadow not banished by the still-rising sun .With an attempted non-chalet squint, Daichi managed to discern that the mystery man was of white decent, and in possession of a messy blonde ponytail of unknown length, as well as a pretty strong nicotine habit. Which was betrayed by the lit cigarette balanced in his lips. Daichi didn't know if he saw him peering around… nor cared much…

Drawing his dinner-plate eyes back the stream of smoke wafting up from the corner, he fixed his gaze upon the next member of the destitute hostel. Although this time under the guise of crawling out of bed and retrieving adequate clothing from his overstuffed back pack half and arms length away.

Still tucked soundly into the tattered covers, the resident next from corner-man had a set of bug-eye head phones looped around his head. What must have been at least 000 gage disks peeking out from under them. With a glance at them, Daichi's scattered mind quickly remembered to finger his own set of plugs.

Smiling to himself at the feel of his not-to-recent accomplishments, he slipped the elastics off his matte black hardware and slid them out, cringing lightly at the sensation. He then rummaged through his typically messy bag and plucked out a pair of 00 plugs, the infamous nirvana face brushed onto each. Slipping them into his stretched out ear. He cast a sideways glance at the rest of the room…

Dismissing the three remaining guests with a puff to align his hopeless hair, he turned his back on his unknown roommates, all three of which were covered in the hostels cheap linen , the single limb visible among the snoring three was a bruised and tattooed arm clutching a bottle, empty of it's bourbon contents.

Hearing a rustle behind him as he turned on his heel to vacate to booze reeking area, he looked over his shoulder to see the corner-man rising, slinging a strangely shaped case, which the fiery red head had to take as some bizarre instrument, over his shoulder and trouping somberly from the shadows. Knee-high boots encrusted with metal plates cracked the mourning air…

Seeing that the odd case bearing man also wished to amscray the smelly hostel, Daichi continued along his way .The rhythmic jangle of the following guest approaching the sleepy blader.

Whether the resulting collision between the two was due to Daichi's clogging up to single door, or either of them being apathic as all hell, we'll never know. What did happen however was the mysterious-guy-in-the-trippy-pants grunting a "srry" and Daichi sliding out of the way and grunting back.

But, since this is still Daichi here, he felt it was necessary to utter a semi-frustrated berating of "watch it!...you…" then trailing off as he took another look at the blonde framed face confronting him.

Now...Daichi had seen some wild body work throughout his travels. But this guy made a punk-rocker look like an eight year old boy. Each and every feature on his pale, well-defined face was punctured and set with a piece of jewelry. His labret held a shimmering stud, just under a CB ring, a red bit of glass captured in its reach, set into the center of his lower lip. Pins with swirling caps were punched into each nostril, between them a septem piercing, a barely visible keeper turned up into his nose, his eyebrows held three barbells each, all with straight metal curves adorning his cranial ridge.

Trying not to look like a shocked pre-teen, he pulled his eyes to the strangers, whose was a deep and forbidding style of blue ice, a complement to his flowing blonde locks.

The mysterious blue-eye, almost smirked, his eyes trained to see the shock his precious modification caused most everyone. Still with a callous grin on his face, his reached back and pulled a hand rolled cigarette from among the many pouches of his strange luggage.

"Here…I'll trade you kid…" he calmly uttered, offering him one, and daring to call Daichi "kid", even though he obviously wasn't more then a year out of his teens himself.

Daichi assumed refusing the mans offer would …annoy... him, so he tentatively accepted the cigarette, half hoping, half not that it held some crazy foreign narcotic that kids in Vietnam tweak out on.

The man, now draping an ankle length overcoat across his lithe figure, held out another of his hand made article, waiting on Daichi to complete their transaction.

"Umm…what?" Dai exclaimed in a cockeyed manner, still holding the white stick.

" Dose thy have a light?" He quizzically uttered, throwing in odd vocabulary that made Daichi fuzzy.

"Oh!.. right!" Patting at his vest pocket he retrieved a Zippo whose sole purpose was to flick for Dai"s legendarily short attention span .Holding the flame to the coated stranger's hand-rolled article, waiting until it caught before lowering it's orange glow. He was surprised to smell a sickly sweet tang fill his mouth when the smoke hit his nostrils. Puzzled at what he held in his hands.

Eyeing his compatriot, the smoking man looked into Daichi's eyes and smirked once more, Seeming to know his question.

"Sweetgrass.."

"Huh?"

" It's sweetgrass….From China"

"Umm..like on a lawn?"

Gazing deep into Dai's eye's once again silenced him.

Smirking roguishly, The Blue-eyed stranger extended a ringed and well-nailed hand to the smaller boy "…My name is Koakotsu…"

Daichi's eyes popped open a bit, then he took Koakotsu's hand and shook it a little too zealously. "Daichi!" He eagerly beamed.

yes...i know it's a bit long...

but it was supposed to be two chapters...

..oh well...

Read & Review!

i promise i'll write a little something for the first five people...


	2. of fauxhawk and blonde lock

Once again….don't own Beyblade

…

also, the crosses Keniji draws on his hands are straight edge x's

Max & Takao: Tokyo international airport, exit gate 45

9:30 AM

With a battered coat case slung over his shoulder, hanging precariously by a protruding set of crooked hangers, hooked onto two long, velvety fingers . Nails rounding off perfectly, just at the smooth tip .His other set of masterfully crafted cuticles clutching the extended handle of a rolling suitcase, its wheel drifting in and out of their methodical hum each time they crossed a crease in the airport's white, faux marble tiling.

Ceasing to trudge his baggage through the crowded terminal, he paused and ran a willowy hand through his eternally bed-head ridden crop of liquid sunlight, a streak of faintest gold highlighting his already extensive Aryan charm, the early sun, sparkling off his bottle green eyes. Tinged in the corner with anxiety, as his long time…"friend" was yet to be found…

Letting out a low sigh, he quelled the emotion, assuring him that this was bound to happen…

World Champion he may be, highest paid Bey Instructor in Japan, yes, decadently skilled kisser, most assuredly. Catching himself on the last mental remark… and letting the slightest blush rise to his cheeks.

Letting his train of thought commence once more, he slammed into the conclusion that his boyfriend was a total airhead. Throwing a gaze onto his stray beam of wispy white-blonde, he realized that his hair color had once again tossed it's stereotype aside. Smirking slightly now, he dutifully recalled a tremendously humorous scene that he played out in head far too frequently… the one that started with some spacy brunette asking him in his… nether… hair was blonde too, and ended with him frenching his dreamy little Takao right out in the street, just after spitefully replying "you'll never know".

Slipping from his day dream, he cast another glance into the shifting sea of people that surged into and out of the terminal .Then cocking an eye brow when a familiar scent crossed his nostrils .The quite delicious rasp of bento

And coconut that followed his mate dutifully, and if his scent was here, then…

"MAXIE!"

His thought verified sharply as he heard his effeminate pet name shrieked out to him as the vest and jean clad world champion came tearing through the dispersing crowds, grinning wildly and throwing his gloved arms around the slender blonde's chest. Pinning his arms to his sides in the process.

Keniji (Kenny) 6:15AM, basement apartment of the Shibatsu apartment complex

Keniji took another chew of his pencil, crunching the flimsy plastic between his teeth. Reclining his chair back from his computer desk, slipping out of the screens azure wash, just far enough to catch a glimpse of the grey mourning light beginning to seep between his blinds. He smirked, a slender silver circlet jangling against his teeth as he did. Batting the ornament for the thousandth time with his tongue, as if to affirm to himself that he really had had a piece of metal stuck through his lip, and even more surprising that he was actually proud of it. He allowed his smirk to widen slightly.

Exhaling a long breathe, he brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed them forcefully, vainly attempting to drive out the weariness out. It had been the third day this week his virtual lifestyle had consumed an entire night. Tripping his way over to the triple mattress he called a bed, he gazed into the mirror that hung on a wall beside his bed, taking stock of his jewelry as he passed.

Twin industrials, check, rook, check, double helix, affirmative, approximately 16 CBs, all there. Sticking out his tongue, he verified the appendage's barbell was in place, then ran his hand over his collection of eyebrow bars, each of his nine silver ring bands clinking in turn. Thumbing each of his nostril screws, he cast back the thick quilt of his bed, then flopped onto the cushy surface. Barely remembering to smack his alarm clock into its duty of awakening him in six hours, time enough to prepare for the cross-town revelry he had marked onto the mental calendar embedded in his mind. Turning to one side, he closed his heavy eyes and fell into a deep slumber.

Awaking with the grainy strings of a foreign tune in his ears, Keniji rolled to his right, the thinnest of sunlight bands flickering on his concrete floor. Yawning quietly, he slipped out form under his comforter, his billowing pants flapping against the hard base of his darkened apartment. Grasping at his circular glasses perched on a narrow shelf beside him, he flipped them on, brushed his LED bangs onto his face, flicked his dyed chin length hair into line, then cemented it there with some handily placed hair cement . Bouncing his head lightly, he checked its hold.

Smirking subtly at his refreshed faux-hawk, he began the daily ritual of rotating his numerous CBs, tweaking his eyebrow bars, and finally giving his belly ring a flick. The latter he had woken up with after a rare night of party-going, not to mention being in someone else's bed. Shuddering at the thought of what his drunken mind had let some faceless women do to him, he picked up his green-stitched trench coat clasped to a hook drilled directly into the foundation of his apartment building.

Throwing it on as he strolled past the bathroom, which he ducked into to finish some "business" he'd neglected to do the previous night, throwing a glance into the mirror hung on the hall adjacent to his toilet, he took stock of himself once again. Subconsciously comparing it to the tie-clad persona he'd once donned, he was rather pleased with his new image. Brushing his stiffened locks, he adjusted his six inch faux-hawk, hued a cunning purple-black, which faded into his bottle-green bangs, set a shade or two darker than his concealed eyes. Letting his lip ring rise with his smile, he stenciled the straight-edge x onto the back of his palms. Then flexed his wiry form , Each and every muscle lithe and pale from his years of sporadic sleep, as well as his equally irregular eating patterns.

Letting the ultra-marine liner on his hands settle, he turned on his socked heel and padded his way out of his cramped facilities. Pulling left as he exited, Keniji turned into the narrow stone-walled corridor which led to his triple locked resin door. Selecting a high pair of three-inch platform boots from the five member line of footwear, he pulled the set of cross-laced apparel out from between a belted duo of metal lined "bondage boots" (as he dubbed them), and an ankle high couplet of side-zippered industrials.

Strapping the form-fitting footwear onto his trim thighs, he tightened them and stood, now noticeably taller, in front of the heavily secured gateway which protected his apartment from marauding crack- heads ripping him off. Retrieving his jangling key ring, heavy with spare jewelry of all sorts, he thumbed back the series of locks bolted to his doorway. Flinging It open as a buzzing UV light invaded his ears, he secured the door again, locked it up, and briskly paced his way down the pipe-lined hall that was his building's greeting to him upon every excursion.


End file.
